


Riot boys

by Miserable_Incredible



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Artist Gerard Way, M/M, Revolutionaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2409071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miserable_Incredible/pseuds/Miserable_Incredible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He turned, slowly on his heel, to face whoever had stumbled across him. The hood of a ratty dark hoodie obscured most of their face. All he could make out was the soft pout of a pair of candyfloss pink lips. Dark jeans clung to his legs and made their way down into a set of scuffed combat boots. Overall, there was nothing remarkable about the stranger across from him. It wasn't the stranger's looks that seemed to mesmerise Frank, it was his attitude. Not many people would be brave enough to venture out on the night of a riot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riot boys

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments, corrections or constructive criticism would be very welcome.

Frank's wide awake after the riots. He lets his thoughts tumble through his head for hours. There will be no sleep. Not after what happened. The hours spent getting ready and the mere minutes spent flowing through the moonlit and grimy streets. Laying there, so still, he cannot wait for the next one. He craves the next buzz. The next surge of adrenaline and triumph as the paint connects with the wall, his hand perfectly still despite the throng of people rushing past him. But even more than that, he craves the next time that he will see him. He wonders if he will ever simply appear beside him like he did tonight.

The mask fits perfectly over his face. A generic, design-your-own, craft mask for small children. A blank canvas that allows him to both flaunt his beliefs and hide away from those who would not have him express them in the way that he does. Gently running the black sharpie over the surface of the mask, Frank creates sharp, hard features on the otherwise soft, smiling mask. Perfect.

He was a shadow. Darting through the streets through the surging masses heading for their favourite stores. Stores they would never be able to afford to breathe in, let alone buy things from. These people are the perfect cover. No one would look for the small, ghost of a person spray painting on the side of a building. A rather large, important building in the city center mind you, but still, the police were much too busy trying to round up all the looters. That's probably a good thing for them. They would never be able to catch him.

He was up on the tips of his toes, trying to add detail to the top of his work of art when he heard a voice.

"Would you like me to lift you up?" a man cooed from behind him.

He turned, slowly on his heel, to face whoever had stumbled across him. The hood of a ratty dark hoodie obscured most of their face. All he could make out was the soft pout of a pair of candyfloss pink lips. Dark jeans clung to his legs and made their way down into a set of scuffed combat boots. Overall, there was nothing remarkable about the stranger across from him. It wasn't the stranger's looks that seemed to mesmerise Frank, it was his attitude. Not many people would be brave enough to venture out on the night of a riot. And only a very small number of them would approach a stranger that was currently vandalising the wall of a building belonging to the city. The guy was lucky that he hadn't been injured by someone feeling rather violent due to the city's current atmosphere. Riots, police and tear gas had never been an amazing combination and that night it seemed to be going down even worse than usual.

Frank turned to retort, only to find that the man had grabbed a spray can and began to add to the giant picture sprawling across the wall behind them. Soon, dark, almost dizzying spirals looped around the outside of Frank's original graffiti, along with punk lyrics that seemed to flow straight out of the wall itself. It was obvious that this guy was an artist, or had at least trained as one.

It was a snap decision, and Frank sure as hell hoped that he wouldn't regret it later.

"C'mon" he said, grabbing the hot artist guy's hand. He had surprised him, allowing Frank to pull him along easily despite his small stature.

"What are you planning on doing, dragging me into the woods so you can kill me?" asked hot artist guy, incredulous at Frank's sudden enthusiasm.

"Yes. You've caught me. I was planning to drag you for miles and miles so I could recreate a shitty horror movie and kill you in the fucking woods" he yelled back, trying desperately not to lose his companion in the maze of allies.

"Great. Thanks for the warning. Where are we really going?" He was persistent, Frank would give him that.

"My apartment so I can take off this damn mask. And don't you dare ask if we're nearly there yet or I'll change my mind about killing you in the forest"

Neither of them spoke again until they reached Frank's apartment. The whole apartment block was filthy. Some places had been encrusted in dirt for so long Frank couldn't remember a time that they were clean in his whole three years of living there. Hot artist guy didn't seem to mind, he just bounded up the stairs as fast as he could, trying not to get left behind by the smaller, nimbler man in front of him.

Frank lost his mask somewhere between the stairs and the pair barrelling through his apartment door like small children. It took the pair a solid five minutes of giggling on the floor before either one of them spoke.

"Hey" Hot artist guy extended a long dainty finger towards his face "Where's your mask?"

Frank clawed at his neck desperately before finding the string keeping his mask secured to him. He reached back and into his hood to extract the mask before once again securing it over his face.

"You know, I think you look better with the mask on" came a taunt from beside him.

"Okay then, I'll keep it on, just for you. What's your name?" Frank tilted his head to the side just before gentle, nimble fingers lifted the mask over his head.

"Gerard," came a short reply before the taller man eventually added "So what's yours? I could keep calling you hot mask guy but I've decided that I quite like you without it as well"

"I'm Frank. So why were you out during the riots? You don't strike me as the type for all that shit"

"I like being a part of it. It's a big fuck you to the government. You can make the law and set the police on us and take our money through taxes but you'll always be the minority. We will always outnumber you and we will always have more passion, more belief, more sheer desperation than you do. And you will never be able to completely control us. That's why I go out and stand in the crowd, that's why I love getting lost in mosh pits. I love the feeling of togetherness and how powerful we are when we're all together. I love the feeling that we're all joined together against the powers that be. And we could really take them on if we all stood together,"

To be completely honest, Frank wasn't really listening anymore, he had tuned out about halfway through. Because really, it was much, much more interesting to watch Gerard talk. His eyes were shining as he spoke of modern day revolutions, his hands flying around as he attempted to emphasise his point. He was gorgeous in this insane way that seemed to steal away Frank's breath every time he so much as glanced at the man next to him.

"Fucking hell. I'm rambling, aren't I?" Gerard turned, huge hazel eyes directed at Frank.

"Well yeah you were. But I like listening to you talk" Frank internally kicked himself. Who says that to someone they met not even an hour ago?

"That's good then. I talk a lot. I don't mean to, just kinda happens. Feel free to tell me to shut up if you get bored" he chuckled, blushing slightly as he spoke.

"I don't think that will happen for a very long time" Frank flirted back. Wait, he was flirting. Since when did he know how to flirt. Frank couldn't do this. Drunken hook-ups were his area of expertise, and that required absolutely no flirting at all. That was kinda the reason he was so good at it.

"You'll have to keep me around then, or let me take you on a date tomorrow. We could go and paint something together. Uh, maybe, if you wanted to?" Gerard looked nervous, all of his bravado and joking from earlier seemed to have deserted him.

"Awesome" Frank enthused, gracing Gerard with one of his rare smiles "I'll make you a mask. But yours can be pink"


End file.
